Confusion
by Tallin Chase
Summary: This is a themed submission for an ATLA writing competition. This one is about Zuko battling with an internal struggle between his desire to regain his honor and his place in his family, and doing what feels right.


**Author's Note:**

Team: Earth Kingdom

Category: Theme

Prompt: 7 "Say no to this" / "Teach me to say no"

Word Count: 1539

ATLA

 _ **Confusion**_

Zuko was confused.

It wasn't an unusual feeling for him; ever since he'd returned to the palace with his sister, Zuko felt more or less like he was in a constant state of internal conflict and overall confusion.

As he stood here, in an unknown but strangely familiar room in the palace, he was hardly surprised to find himself extremely confused. Again.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he had to be somewhere in the palace. The unmistakable enormous granite pillars that stretched high to the vaulted ceiling and reflected the firelight onto dozens of long Fire Nation tapestries lining the walls told him this much.

He looked around, curious. He seemed to be alone in this room, except for a simple dais at the end of the hall with a small, golden object resting on it, glinting and glittering.

He felt the inexplicable urge to grab this object and had to fight the temptation to run for it. He'd long since learned to question his instincts before he acted on them. Zuko was an impulsive person by nature, and he had the scars to prove it.

He reached up to feel his face… and froze. The area of skin that was normally rough and mangled by scar tissue felt strangely smooth to the touch. He tentatively felt his eye and was shocked to notice that it was no longer forced into a squint or twisted by his scar, but was free and unblemished.

He grinned, despite himself. He could hardly remember the last time he'd felt his own face and hadn't recoiled. It was a nice feeling.

But a flash of golden light distracted himself from his marveling, and Zuko turned his attention back to the dais. He walked closer to it. When he was merely feet away, he stopped. From here, he could recognize the object. It was his father's crown.

Zuko felt a surge of several different emotions all at once at this moment of recognition. He wasn't at all sure what these emotions were, though, and that made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Well, go on, Fire Lord Zuko," said a sultry voice that echoed through the hall. Zuko spun around, searching for the source with his fists raised and held at the ready. But there was no one there. He was on high alert now, waiting for the speaker to reveal themselves.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"Your crown awaits you, Fire Lord Zuko. Go on," continued the voice, ignoring him. "Take it."

Zuko glanced back at the crown and felt a pang of longing course through him. He wasn't sure why, he'd never had any attachment to any Fire Royalty junk before… why should this crown affect him so?

A different voice seemed to have an answer to this.

"You must not take it, Prince Zuko!" it insisted. "It is a symbol for all of the vengeance and fear in your life. If you take it, you will be left with nothing but sorrow and regret for an unfulfilled life."

That made Zuko pause. The voice was so familiar, so comforting and deep and wise…

"Say no to this," it pleaded.

"I don't know how!" shouted Zuko desperately. "I'm so confused and I don't know what to do!" He clutched at his head, which was pounding against the whirling motion and deafening screeches.

"Zuzu," crooned the first disembodied voice in his ear. It was an eery voice, velvety and female, but it sounded almost like two different women were speaking at once, one low and sultry, the other soft and purring. He flinched away from it. "Listen to me, Zuko. You have nothing to be afraid of. You're safe. You're home. You're going to be fiiiiiine…" the voices crooned.

"But I don't feel fine!" Zuko yelled in frustration.

He kept his eyes tightly closed, but could still somehow see the swirling lights and bursts of flame. From out of the tunnel of fire, a figure began to emerge. It was a body, engulfed in blue flames and crackling with bright electricity that shot out of it at random, causing Zuko to jump in surprise. The figure had two almond-shaped black eyes that stared at him with a sort of twisted delight. When it spoke, another gaping hole opened in its face and dripped with molten lava.

"Take it, Prince Zuko. Take what is rightfully yours. Prove to the world that you are not a coward. Prove that you are not weak! Take it now, Zuko, and restore your honor!" said the creature.

All of the sudden, Zuko recognized the voices. One was the unmistakable menacing purr of his sister, Azula, taunting and jeering as she always did. The other… the other voice had to be his mother. It was a voice that he struggled to remember when he stopped to think about it, but a voice that haunted his dreams nearly every night since he'd arrived back at the palace. He abruptly froze at the realization and pulled his hands away from his face.

This was a dream—no, a nightmare, a terrible nightmare. But if it was a nightmare, that meant he could wake up.

And yet, the creature beckoned to him, pulling him, luring him toward the daius that held that magnificent crown, now much larger than it had been when he'd first seen it, and topped with glittering rubies that seemed to burn in their settings. He gazed at it with a wary sort of longing.

Suddenly, he was right in front of it, hands outstretched. He jerked his hands back in groggy surprise and took a step backward.

"No, Zuko!" pleaded the second voice, which he now recognized as the beloved voice of his Uncle. Zuko looked around wildly, searching for him.

"Uncle? Uncle! Where are you?" he called.

"You must fight it, Zuko!" said his Uncle with a desperate urgency that was rare and frightening to the young prince. "Fight the temptation, for it will only bring your downfall."

Zuko heard a soft, distant laugh from behind him. He slowly turned around and stared at his surroundings.

He was now in the throne room, standing on the pedestal behind a wall of flame where his father usually sat. He gazed down the length of the room, past the grand columns, and toward the open door, where a deep void of darkness dwelled. From the depths, in the far distance of that darkness, a bright flame was growing larger and larger. It was coming nearer to him.

The laughter grew steadily louder and more maniacal, beginning with Azula's grating voice, but gradually building until the hall was quaking from the roaring of hundreds of men and women alike, cackling at him. The creature was nearly upon him now, but he couldn't move an inch. It was like gravity had seized his legs and rooted them to the spot.

Zuko threw his arms out wildly and saw the crown, bigger and brighter than ever before, sitting invitingly on the pedestal.

 _If he took it, the thing would go away. The laughter would stop. He would be safe. Everything would be quiet._

 _But then…_

"Say no to this."

The words were said so softly, so gently, that Zuko almost missed them. But there they were again, still so soothing and calm, and sounding so near, the words could be heard over the howling of the fiery monster.

"Please, Prince Zuko, find the strength to fight the temptation to become something you are not."

"I'm tired and confused, Uncle. Teach me to say no! I don't know what I'm doing—"

"Fight your inner demons, nephew," he interrupted firmly. Then, in a softer tone, he said "I cannot fight them for you." The sad longing in the phrase told Zuko that his Uncle wished very much that he could fight for him, but, as usual, he was right. This was a struggle he'd been battling through since he was just a small child. Somehow, he would have to find a way to end this nightmare.

If he didn't, he would burn himself alive.

The thought made him remember the creature. He turned back to face it…

Too late. It was already here. It opened its mouth so wide it had to have become unhinged, and Zuko stared into the shadows of its scorching maw for the briefest moment before he was swallowed in inferno and suffocating darkness.

Zuko bolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat and shaking violently. He was in his enormous canopy bed in the palace. There was no more monster, no more disembodied voices.

He was home.

He was safe.

He was alone.

Azula was probably still sleeping soundly down the hall, not taunting him with burning black eyes. His father's crown was probably resting on its stand in his father's room. Uncle was… he was still silently wasting away in a prison cell.

Zuko flopped back onto the bed and rubbed a hand over his weary face, feeling the ridges and bumps of the hideous scar that mangled his young face once more.

"It was only a dream, it didn't mean anything," he whispered over and over again until he could almost convince himself it was true.


End file.
